


A New Equation

by Karasuno Volleygays (ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Gen, Study Buddies, friendship fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-12
Updated: 2017-03-12
Packaged: 2018-10-03 03:56:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10235345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor/pseuds/Karasuno%20Volleygays
Summary: When Kindaichi is assigned an unexpected math tutor, he gets a chance to see Kageyama in a whole new light as they help each other through the trials of their first year of college.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [artisticalgorithm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/artisticalgorithm/gifts).



> I know this is genfic, but sometimes, I think I love the reconciliation part of Kindaichi and Kageyama's relationship a bit too much. I hope you like it, and I'm glad I got a chance to write this for you. There is never enough KinKage out there. ♥

Kindaichi’s fingers clench around the piece of paper in his hands, knees wobbling just a bit as slowly propels himself to his doom. Every step brings him closer to what he’s growing surer by the second is the end of his college career. And he’s only a freshman.

Because squashed into his sweaty palm is his midterm exam, complete with a piss poor mark and a note to see his math professor after class, along with his hopes and dreams and any hope of sleeping for the next hundred years or so. As he treads heavily nearer to his impending doom, Kindaichi mentally rehearses how he is going to tell his mother he got kicked out of college and he’s only been there for four months. He pictures her weeping as she crawls off for her sixth double shift in a row to pay for his education he won’t be getting from a college that doesn’t refund unused tuition. He’ll take a job at McDonald’s scooping fries while his face sprouts acne he won’t get rid of until he’s dead.

Oh, god.

Shaking that awful thought from his head, Kindaichi wipes his palms on his shirt and pushes through the door.

“You . . . you wanted to see me, sir?” he croaks.

Professor Shimada gives Kindaichi a tight smile and gestures toward the seat opposite him at the desk. “This won’t take long, Kindaichi-kun.” 

Kindaichi settles uneasily and takes in Shimada’s pinched face. “Am I in trouble?”

“Well, yes and no.” Shimada sighs when he sees Kindaichi’s gulp of dread. “I see you brought your exam with you. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” He holds out his hand and takes the papers from Kindaichi and flips through them shaking his head. “I see you understand some of the concepts of the course and that you’re clearly putting in effort, but there seem to be a number of trigonometrical principles you don’t grasp as well as you need to in order to be successful in this course.”

Fingers shaking on the top of his thighs, Kindaichi looks down at the sliver of floor peeking between his legs to stave off the wave of panic he can feel coming on. “Is — is there anything I can do?” 

Kindaichi almost misses Shimada’s smile, only alerted to its presence when he eyes a slip of paper being slid over his rumpled exam. “One of your peers in another one of my classes has agreed to help you out until you catch up in return for a little extra credit for his psychology class. He’ll meet you at the library tomorrow at six.”

Eyes wide, Kindaichi clutches the slip of paper to his chest as he bolts to his feet and bows low. “Thank you, sensei. I’ll do better, I promise.”

“I know you will, Kindaichi-kun,” Shimada says as he casts a meaningful glance at the door. “Now, I believe you have some studying to do.”

Nodding emphatically, Kindaichi scoops the rest of his belongings into his arms, papers askew and only corralled by a single staple, and backs out of Shimada’s office feeling less dread than he has since he sat down to take the exam in the first place.

 

* * *

 

It’s twenty minutes until his scheduled tutoring session when Kindaichi arrives at the library, settling at a table near the door so his tutor won’t have trouble finding him. That is, he hopes his tutor knows who he is, since Kindaichi had lost the slip of paper with the guy’s contact info on it almost immediately after leaving the lecture hall the day before. And he hadn’t got so much as a glimpse at the name OR the phone number before it had been blasted out of his hands by the brisk late-autumn wind.

However, his whirring thoughts come crashing to a halt when he sees literally the last face he ever expects to find pushing through the library doors at 5:59. “Holy crap,” he mutters before his jaw falls slack at the sight of Kageyama Tobio, dressed in the university's volleyball team warm-ups with a matching sling bag hanging from his shoulders.

Kindaichi had known that he and Kageyama had chosen the same college, which surprisingly had nothing to do with Kindaichi’s decision to give up volleyball in order to concentrate on academics. However, their paths had not crossed and the matter hadn’t crossed his mind as a result. Yet seeing his old nemesis coolly strolling back into his life is still a startling sensation for Kindaichi. Especially since Kageyama is increasingly close to standing right next to him.

Of course, he isn’t prepared at all for the moment when Kageyama drops his bag at Kindaichi’s table and slumps into the chair next to his.

“Do you want to start at the beginning of the book, or just the last chapter?” Kageyama asks as he fishes his trig book from his backpack. 

Gaping, Kindaichi stutters, “Wh-what are you t-talking about?”

Kageyama’s head tilts to the side as he squints at Kindaichi in concentration. “Huh?”

They trade blank stares for a long, uncomfortable minute before Kindaichi spits, “ _ You’re _ my tutor?”

“Yes?” Kageyama scratches his head as he pulls a slip of paper from the front of his math book. He shows it to Kindaichi, who snatches it away to read it seven times, only to have his worst suspicions confirmed. 

In Shimada’s handwriting is Kindaichi’s name, as well as the time and location of their meetup. His fingers slowly strangle the life out of the paper before letting it dribble out of his hand and onto the table for Kageyama to slowly blink at. “Do you want me to go?” he asks, pulling his book away from Kindaichi as he averts his gaze. “I thought it was weird you agreed to this.”

The first instinct that flares up in Kindaichi’s gut is to assert that he did not, in fact, agree to this and wouldn’t have if he had so much as suspected that his assigned tutor was going to be Kageyama-frickin-Tobio. But as he observes Kageyama corralling his belongings and push his chair back from the table, Kindaichi sighs and mumbles, “Stop.” Wide-eyed, Kageyama plops back down and waits for Kindaichi to continue. “I thought you sucked at school.”

Shrugging, Kageyama answers, “Pretty much. Just not at math. My psychology professor said I could get extra credit if I was able to tutor someone. Especially someone who doesn’t like me.” He frowns and scratches his head. “He said it would prove I am actually learning something. I don’t see how, though.”

Unable to drag his attention away from Kageyama’s confused admission, Kindaichi can’t bite back the guffaw that spurts out of his mouth until he’s doubled over and wheezing with laughter. When he wipes the tears of mirth from his eyes and looks up, he sees Kageyama cringing in embarrassment that Kindaichi can’t muster much guilt for causing. “I’m a social experiment,” Kindaichi wheezes, dropping his forehead onto his own book. “I’m so screwed.”

Kageyama sits motionless next to him, but Kindaichi can’t help but admire the absurdity of the moment. Kageyama Tobio is once again the guidepost between himself and success, and while he wonders if Shimada understands the irony, he also can’t turn down a chance (even an outside one) to erase the sea of red marks littering his midterm exam and steer toward more promising waters. Taking a deep breath, Kindaichi relents, “You can stay.”

Blinking in surprise, Kageyama makes no motion to unpack his book once again until Kindaichi reaches over to unzip his bag. Taking his cue, Kageyama scrambles to pull out the required materials and flip to the first chapter in the book. “Where do you need to start?”

Kindaichi’s lips twitch as he points at the first chapter in the index. “How about here. That’s where everything started going wrong.”

Something resembling a chuckle escaped Kageyama before he tried and failed to hide the sound with a fake cough. “Okay.”

 

* * *

 

As it turns out, Kageyama hasn’t improved especially when it comes to explaining things, but watching him work through equations is enough for Kindaichi’s brain to attempt to latch onto the principles involved until he’s able to slowly replicate the results. It’s about two weeks’ into daily sessions as they re-cover the entire semester’s bookwork that Kindaichi is able to read the text lessons and actually comprehend them. 

He also notices as they go along that his communication with Kageyama has greatly improved with each passing day. What started with choppy half-explanations of the current chapter has slowly morphed into yes/no questions from Kindaichi, followed by emphatic yeses from Kageyama because Kindaichi is much better at summing things up than he is. It’s probably the poorest attempt at tutoring Kindaichi can think of, but despite all higher reasoning, it works for them.

Kindaichi mulls it over as he heads to the campus library for yet another session, which this time covers the current course material and will officially get him up to date with Shimada’s class. Each day, there is less and less he doesn’t know and requires Kageyama’s assistance in assimilating, but this is the day where he can sit down and say for certain that this will be the last time he needs someone to hold his hand through theorems and postulates and whatever the hell else a triangle can manage to hurl his way.

But as he heads for their regular table far away from the librarian’s eagle gaze, Kindaichi stops as he sees Kageyama with his hands buried in his hair and a pinched look on his face. “You look pissier than usual,” Kindaichi quips, hoping it will distract Kageyama from his sour mood long enough for him to figure out what’s awry. He catches a glimpse of the open book in front of Kageyama and muses out loud, “Modern Japanese history?”

“Why do I have to take this stupid class?” Kageyama hisses as he shoves the book away. “I’m majoring in kinesiology. Who  _ cares _ about old emperors anyway?”

With a shrug, Kindaichi sits down next to Kageyama and pulls Kageyama’s book in front of him. “Oh, the Meiji Restoration? It’s what launched Japan into the modern world. You have to know  _ something _ about it, right?” At Kageyama’s anguished headshake, Kindaichi sighs. “All right, let’s start from the beginning . . .”

And before he knows it, Kindaichi’s last trigonometry lesson morphs into his first history seminar, and it’s far from the final meeting they have at this table. Each day, they take turns milking the other’s knowledge of their poorer subjects until they exchange numbers so they can plan such things ahead of time. On math days, Kindaichi brings his book and on history, Kageyama brings his. Somehow, an entire semester treads on this way until Kindaichi is blindsided by the announcement of the end of term exam that will be a huge chunk of his final grade. Even more surprising is yet another note asking Kindaichi to stay behind after class to speak to Shimada once again.

“Sir?” Kindaichi asks as he settles in the seat that had held such trepidation for him just a few months before. “Is there something I can do for you?”

Shimada smiles at Kindaichi and pushes the copy of the mid-term exam that had been accidentally left on the desk during their last meeting. “I want you to take a look at this exam as you study for the next one. You’re hardly the same student who sat in that chair shaking the last time you were here, and I want you to see how far you’ve come with just a little bit of help.”

Kindaichi’s cheeks color at the compliment, but he takes the crumpled old paper nonetheless. “Yes, sensei. I’ll do my best.”

“You always have. Your best is just better now.” He pulls out his phone and pulls up a text. “Oh, and kudos for helping Kageyama-kun pull up his history grade. His professor is quite surprised yet pleased at the turnaround.”

“Yeah, no problem,” Kindaichi answers, putting a lot of effort into keeping his suspicions that teachers gossip about students more than vice versa to himself. “Thank you, sir. I really appreciate the vote of confidence.”

As he leaves Shimada’s office, Kindaichi finds his way to the gym, where he knows Kageyama has volleyball practice until 5:30. There are a few spectators, mostly prospective tryouts and girlfriends, and he settles himself into a seat in the bleachers in their general vicinity while he watches. Kageyama is even more fluid and precise than Kindaichi remembers, but what he notices the most is the exchange of words between Kageyama and his teammates. They’re heat of the moment and short, but there is nothing but efficiency and agreement where there had been failure and argument between Kindaichi and his ex-setter all those years ago. Even Karasuno Kageyama hadn’t been this adaptable, and that guy had surprised the hell out of Kindaichi.

But somehow, he isn’t surprised at all. This is the same guy who speaks in basic logic as he explains something he finds simple, and there has been no hint of the royal pain in the ass Kindaichi remembers from middle school. It’s as if someone had taken that raw, unrefined Kageyama and milled him into something smooth. 

It takes a minute, but Kindaichi realizes that this someone might very well be him.

The rest of practice passes without commanding much of Kindaichi’s attention. His thoughts are all but dominated by the idea that, after all this time, Kageyama might have learned more than just history from Kindaichi, and the more he considers it, the warmer his cheeks become. So much so that he nearly falls out of his seat when a hand touches his shoulder. 

Towel slung around his shoulders, Kageyama quirks a brow at Kindaichi. “Are you worried about your test?”

“No, I —” Wiping his sweating palms on his thighs, Kindaichi chokes a laugh. “I just wanted to see you play, I guess. You’ve changed.”

Eyes sparking with energy, Kageyama nods. “I never wanted to be someone my teammates hated ever again. Our studying helped a lot.”

Kindaichi pulls a bottle of water out of his backpack and hands it to Kageyama, who accepts it gratefully. “Well, from someone who used to be your teammate and hate you, I can safely say you’re out of the woods, dude.”

Mid-swallow, Kageyama nearly spits his mouthful of water all over Kindaichi. “You . . . you don’t hate me anymore?”

Burying his face in his hands, Kindaichi can barely contain his weary groan. He allows himself a sigh and a bemused smile. “If I hated you, why would I let you be my tutor? Trust me, three years ago, I would’ve told you where you could shove it and exactly how far.” He reaches up and claps Kageyama on the shoulder. “But we’re cool now. In case you didn’t get it.”

“Cool,” Kageyama echoes as something dangerously reminiscent of a smile teases at the corners of his mouth. 

“Yeah.” Kindaichi stands and nocks his head toward the door. “So, what do you say we skip studying today and hit that noodle cart near the north gate?”

Nodding, Kageyama remarks, “Their pork ramen is good.”

Kindaichi faintly remembers a twelve-year-old Kageyama slurping down a giant bowl of noodles after practice before everything had fallen apart between them, and somehow, he thinks he’s unlocked another of his newest friend’s passions.

_ Friend _ . 

It’s been a long time since he could recall using that particular descriptor when it comes to Kageyama Tobio, but Kindaichi thinks he’s ready to accept it. And as they walk to the noodle cart side by side, Kindaichi considers how far they’ve come since their first meeting in the library and he figures that’s an equation he can work out all on his own.


End file.
